


True

by TheNerdHerdIsComing



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt, This is basically pain ok, Though not all that much comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2007570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNerdHerdIsComing/pseuds/TheNerdHerdIsComing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hero always gets to say goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True

**Author's Note:**

> Should point out - this is not factually accurate AT ALL. But it popped into my head and I liked it, so I hope you will too.

They'd finally tracked him down to a dingy little cottage just outside the city.

The man was a psychopath. He'd mown down five of his family members, for reasons known only to himself, then fled to this hideout. A sixth had survived long enough to tell them who they were searching for, but had died later in hospital. Another life, snatched away by this maniac.

The armed response team had followed them - this guy wasn't a common or garden murderer. He was probably armed, certainly dangerous, and so far hadn't shown one shred of remorse.

Lewis turned to Hathaway, speaking in a low voice. They were crouched behind some hedges across the road, staking the place out.

"Armed response say they're ready. They've decided the best tactic is just go in through the front door, fast. It's risky, but if we catch him by surprise then we'll be able to stop him before he hurts anyone," Lewis relayed.

Hathaway gave a single nod of his head. "Ready when you are, sir."

Lewis turned to the walkie-talkie he'd been given and fired off several instructions into it. The force would be split in two; half led by him and Hathaway, the other half coming in through the back entrance.

The team were trained and professional, taking remarkably little time to set themselves into position. Silently, every movement measured, Lewis and Hathaway crept up the drive, followed by around ten men wielding firearms.

Lewis counted down on his fingers. Three… two… one…

In one swift movement, Hathaway stood and kicked firmly at the door. One more solid kick, landed just below the keyhole, and the door sprang open, allowing the team to swarm in, to cries of "Police! Get down on the ground!"

But the plan had been horribly flawed, their murderer clearly having caught their scent, because there he stood, planted in the hallway, a gun levelled at them. They weren't even all through the doorway when he started firing.  
It was a rush of movement, a frenzy of activity, as a full-blown gunfight erupted in the hallway. But for Lewis, everything had slowed to a total and utter halt, because with that first shot, Hathaway had jerked and gone down.

Horror-struck, Lewis froze and fell to his knees beside the crumpled form of his sergeant and friend. Hathaway had fallen on his front and, hesitantly, Lewis reached out to turn him over, mind conjuring up images of torn flesh and blood-soaked clothing.

What he found was much worse.

The bullet had ripped a neat hole in Hathaway's forehead, almost exactly central. There wasn't a huge amount of blood, but there it was - a small, red hole, the difference between one moment and the next, between life and death.

Hathaway's eyes were open and unseeing, seeming to look up at Lewis though the man who was once there was gone. They hadn't even had time to register their surprise at his sudden and brutal end. They were simply empty, devoid of all that had made up James Hathaway, that intelligence, wit and sparkle which had drawn Lewis inexorably out of the cocoon he'd found himself in when they'd first met, and formed the foundations of a friendship he'd hoped would last for as long as he was on this earth. And now he would never have the chance to thank him for all he had done, more than Lewis could ever possibly return. There would be no noble last words, no strained goodbye. Just the simple fact of an ending.

It wasn't fair. All that life, promise, hope and future, gone, lost in the blink of an eye. A mere few centimetres would have felled him instead, with most of his life behind him, but the cruelty of fate had decided that today was Hathaway's day, that an entire lifetime should be stolen away by a madman and a single bullet.

Lewis cradled his sergeant's head, tears stinging behind his eyes. James Hathaway was dead, and all Lewis could think, as he slid his eyes shut for the last time, was that he deserved better.


End file.
